You Must Be Mistaken, This Man Is Not My Husband
by O' Future Ruler Maria Larry
Summary: I took off my ring and handed it to Nick to inspect. As I placed the silver ring in his palm, my heart was struck cold with the realization of the weight of this action. This was mine and Fang's. Could he really be the Fang I'd been searching for?
1. Prologue Part 1

**Disclaimer: Maximum Ride is property of James Patterson. The plot is property of Cassandra Jones.**

**This is an Alternate Universe fanfiction.**

I sat on the large blanket in the back of the bus. It was so strange to me, sitting back here. So much room. The sky was starry and dark, and for the first time in a long time, I was so happy to be in Japanese. Emily, Nick, and J.J. sat in the back of the bus with me. We talked. It was always easier to talk to Nick when there were others around. The subject of our conversation? Teeth. I kid you not.

I laughed, slightly embarrassed, "My teeth are horrible!" I cried, "They're all crooked. I don't want braces, though. Besides, I've grown attached to my snaggle tooth."

Emily responded but I didn't hear her. J.J. giggled and said something to Emily while giving me a playful nudge. Again, her words were just white noise. Nick sat across from me, he said nothing. As was to be expected. His wry smile made me grin. What was he thinking about?

I turned to ask Emily what she'd said when I saw him move. He got up on his knees and came closer to the three of us. It wasn't until it occurred to me that his hand was at my shoulder that I saw what was to follow. He bent over me and put his mouth over mine.

I tell you this now so you don't get confused. It was not a kiss. He did not kiss me. I may not know what a kiss feels like, but trust me, that wasn't it. You know how people do CPR? And how that's not the same as kissing? Well, it's like that. His mouth was over mine but he wasn't kissing me. He just set it there. There was pressure on my lips but nothing more.

I could feel the shock of my two friends. What was going on? What was he doing? And why?

I gasped sitting up and clutching my chest. I was sweating all over but I felt so cold. I looked around my room and let out a sigh of relief, realizing what had just happened was all a dream. In my inspection, my eyes fell on the arm draped casually over my waist. I looked back to the boy to whom the arm belonged. I smiled at him affectionately. I could hardly believe he was still asleep, what with my episode just now. I closed my eyes and flopped back down on the bed with another long sigh. "What's up?" Fang asked. I flinched. Not completely asleep, I guess.

"It's nothing," I lied. Why bother lying? He'd find out anyway. "I'll tell you in the morning." Nuzzling my side, he made a muffled grunt of approval. I ran my hand through his hair and tried to get back to sleep. School tomorrow.

FREEZE FRAME!

My name is Max. Maximum, actually. Maximum Ride. I am the oldest of five children. Youngest to oldest: Gazzy (Gunther), 1; Angel, 3; Ari (Arnold), 7; and Ella, 15. Angel, Gazzy and I are all from the same two parents, however, in the time that our parents were "separated," Ella and Ari were born. Ari, my father's, Ella, my mother's. Eventually, Jeb and Valencia, my parents and the guardians of my family, came to their senses and remarried, thus producing the round face bundles of joy I know to be Angel and Gazzy.

J.J. is my best friend. She and I are sophomores in high school and have been friends since eighth grade, which, I hate to say, is a very short time comparatively.

Emily is another good friend of mine. She and I sing, draw, and speak Japanese together. We'd probably have more classes together, but she's a senior. I'm going to miss her when she goes off to college next year. I envy her facial expressions, habitual gesticulations, intelligence, work ethic, and enthusiasm. I don't think we hang out nearly enough.

Fang is my husband.

Okay, yeah, I thought that might confuse you.

Fang and I "met" in seventh grade at a middle school play that a few of my friends took part in. He's about a year older than me. 6'1", brown eyes, black hair, good sense of humour, understanding, slouch from hanging around me who is almost two feet shorter, black wings. I know, I know, there we go again with the surprises. You see, I need to put "met" in quotations because _technically_ I created Fang. He's my imaginary friend.

Now wait a second, it really isn't that weird. . . Okay, so I lied, it's totally freaky. But that's not the point. I mean, I understand that there's no way he's really there. That I'm "in love" with a figment of my imagination. But... I mean, sometimes... There's no way it's me. It's Fang. He's there. He's real. And I know. I've heard him, actually heard him. And other's have, too! (He's quite the snorer) I've felt his hand on my arm. I've seen him standing in my living room. I know he's there. I don't know how I know. I just do.

We didn't start out "lovers." We got married in eighth grade and now it just feels weird to take my ring off. What can I say? I love that boy.

Oh right, right. But you're all probably curious as to who this "_Nick_" character is.

Well, that's pretty simple. He and I met when I was in eighth grade. He's a couple inches shy of six foot.

. . . Also... he has brown eyes, black hair... he slouches when he walks... He's got a pretty well developed sense of humour...

He looks just like Fang.

And... I think, just a few seconds ago, I realized for the first time, in how much trouble I was going to be in over the next year.


	2. Prologue Part 2

**Disclaimer: Maximum Ride is property of James Patterson. However, this plot line is completely owned by Cassandra Jones. I do not plan on this remaining a fanfiction. This is an Alternate Universe fanfiction. At first it will probably be confusing, but once you get used to the characters and their back stories, things should just click.**

The alarm went off at four thirty, as usual. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, staring at the clock which I always set at least a half hour later than the actual time to keep me from running late. Four thirty in the morning would usually be a perfectly acceptable time for me to wake up and get ready for school, but last night's dream was too much for me to handle. I needed more sleep - preferably Nick-less sleep.

You see, for the last few months, at least since school had started up, I had been having dreams with Nick in it.

Fang and I... we were very close. Since he and I had known each other so long, it was no longer a question of whether or not he was real. I had come to terms with his existence years ago. He was not physically real, but as far as things went for me, Fang was just as much real as any other person and deserved to be treated the same. Fang was my... everything. When I cried, he soothed me, when I was scared, he protected me, when I was confused, he explained things to me. I don't know where I would have been without Fang, I relied on him so much.

Though I knew that Fang and I could... never really... "be together," I prayed that some day, he may become real. Real as in, gain a body. I hoped one day, by some miracle, we would be together. I was always on a search for a potential "Fang."

One day, a morning like any other, in eighth grade - I had hoped - my dreams were one step closer to being fulfilled. I went to my high school every other morning to take my language class. There, I sat next to Nick. I didn't know Nick at all. He never talked to me. I was always forgetting my stuff, so he shared his book with me once, other than that, I never communicated with him in the least. I drew him once or twice - from boredom or sheer realization of how perfect his poses were. After the seating chart changed, Nick could have been missing for weeks and I wouldn't have noticed. He meant nothing to me. He's just some high-schooler. I'm just some middle-schooler. Whatcha gonna do?

But that particular morning, Nick came into class late. We were saying the pledge when he walked in. Every thing was normal, nothing about that day was strange at all. Other than that the night before, perhaps some time over the weekend, whenever it was, Nick had dyed his hair black. He had straightened it. Nick walked in casually, greeted the class, and took his seat like any other day. But that day, he looked like Fang. Not even "like" Fang. If Fang had somehow acquired a body, he had just walked into my class and changed his name to Nick. It was my chance!

Not that I took it.

I didn't know Nick. I wasn't so stupid as to chase after some high school boy, what, two years older than me? Just because he looked like Fang? No. That's silly. That's not like me at all.

When I got into high school the year after, I made it a point not to talk to him. If I did, I'd associate him with Fang. I couldn't do that to him. He wasn't Fang. I wasn't going to pretend he was. It was all for the best.

Until I noticed him everywhere. This is no joke. It seemed like every passing period, I would see him in the hallways. We had lunch together every day. It was more than overwhelming to see the boy I had already decided to avoid every time I turned around. After a while, I decided to confront him about it.

My first words to Nick outside of class were, "Hello, I'm Max. I'm in your Japanese class? Uhm, yeah... You don't know me... but you're stalking me.... You look a lot like a friend of mine. I draw him all the time... So, if you ever walk down a hallway and hear a bunch of girls freaking out... that's probably me and my friends. Thank you... see you later."

As my friend once said, "You never really gave it[your relationship with him] a chance, did ya?"

Soon after, my friend, Lissa, who had taken an interest in him after hearing my story, started dating him. I saw him even more then.

It had become a sort of dance. I would avoid him, and then try to befriend him, and then have nightmares about him, then shy away again. It was a cycle. By the end of the year, it had become even more of an issue than it had been to begin with. I was down right frightened of him. The mention of his name sent shivers down my spine. I could hardly talk to him without stuttering or shaking. It was a phobia.

It upset him to know that I was avoiding him and not know why. He never told me it disturbed him, but I knew because he had asked my friends about it. Lissa was little help in this, though she tried her best. She was always taking him over to talk to me. I had to get her to ask him to go away or something whenever I spoke with her. She would make sure to include me when she hugged him before class.

Over the Summer, Lissa and Nick broke up for the third and final time. Plans had been set up on the last day of my freshman year, I was not going to avoid Nick anymore.

He was friends with too many of my friends. I saw him too often. It was too much trouble to go through for too little reward.

But now, without Lissa, I had no safety net.

Just Nick and I.

It was a frightening way to think about things. I had some serious thinking to do.

What did he matter to me, anyway? What did I matter to him?

It was stupid.

I changed the alarm setting to five thirty and went back to sleep, cuddling close to Fang. I had a long day ahead of me. I dreamt no more in the hour of extra sleep I received. Five thirty rolled around and I crawled out of bed and slowly dressed in the darkness. Fang sat on the bed behind me, rubbing his eyes and sighing. That day we had only one core class: English. It was an easy day for me, academically - though, I'll admit, Newspaper had its moments. However, socially, I was deprived of almost all of my friends. No friends in Newspaper, we couldn't talk during choir, a total of two friends in Gym, and perhaps three friends in English - but they usually talked amongst themselves. On the other hand, that day I had lunch with two of my favourite people.

Jake was a very good friend of mine. I often described him as "valuable" or "precious." Although, when it came right down to it. I very rarely relied on Jake for moral support and more often found comfort in his good humour and intelligence. He was an artist, like me, only much much better. I met Jake in seventh grade in art club. He was a year older than me. When I first came to art club, he scoffed at my work and criticized it thoroughly, but I took his criticism and made myself better. By the end of the year, he was congratulating me and giving me tips. The next year, Jake was in high school, I was in middle school. Without really knowing one another outside of art club, we didn't bother to keep in touch. The year after, I was too intimidated to talk with him. Despite my overwhelming sense of inferiority in the presence of an art master such as himself, over the Summer I had volunteered to run a booth with my choir. Jake was there selling slushies. Instead of selling pies with my choir, I spent the day with Jake, talking about art, being random, and getting a severe sunburn.

I also sat with Nick.

Nick and Jake seem to be good friends. I don't know when or where they met. They don't seem to have any particularly strong bonds with one another. No "brotherly love." Simply friends that like to hang out. I remember, they were such _dudes _together. Sometimes Jake would turn to Nick, shout, "BOOBS!" and slap him a high five. I was stunned when Nick did the same. Perhaps they just looked too emo for me to think about them liking girls.

At the beginning of my Sophomore year, I did my best to talk to Nick when I could without seeming like a stalker. However, Nick himself had told me that he had nothing against being a "stalker." I decided not much longer after that that I hated it when he patronized me. I then decided that he patronized me often and I could not take his opinion to heart because he was surely being nice for no reason.

Sometimes, we would talk and he would ask me things like, "Are you cold or nervous?" in response to my shaking hands. I decided I hated how he noticed that, but no one else would have.

It wouldn't be long before it occurred to me that I had no intention of telling him about myself and he had every intention of being as vague as possible. Because of this, I paid attention to his every detail and he paid attention to a good few of mine. Thus bringing about another round of awkward questions including, "I thought you didn't like hugging girls?" Which I don't, "Why do you bite your hands?" Which he denied, though I know he does, I see him do it all the time, "Why do you always wear that necklace?" Then he turned around so I could see that the necklace I had noticed was actually covered by his shirt collar so one was unable to see it from the front, and "Is that what inspired you to write that story?" I never showed him any of my stories.

After I got used to talking to him, I thought I'd take things a step further and attempt to be his friend. So, we started eating lunch with one another. Every other day, we were the first two to arrive at the lunch table. We exchanged greetings. Throughout the lunch we socialized like any other friends would. After lunch I held onto his backpack with an unnecessarily tight grip to avoid losing him in the crowd. Or perhaps, to avoid losing him - period.

More on that later.

We walked together until we reached the stairs where he went to his class and and I went the other way to head towards mine. We stopped by the stairs and talked about whatever I wouldn't bring up around Jake or our other friends. Eventually I would look around the hall and notice that no one was in them and hurriedly say goodbye and scurry off to my last class.

After a couple of weeks of this, I had finally decided it was time to try giving him a hug goodbye. It then became routine.

I had noticed something over the past few months, however.

A) Over the weekends - I missed Nick

B) No matter what I did - It was hard not to think about him

C) He was so involved in my life - Almost every thing reminded me of him

D) I was developing feelings, strong feelings for Nick

Nick - My friend's ex-boyfriend. Nick - Fang's doppelganger. Nick - My friend. Nick - A senior. Nick - who was going no where with his life.

Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick.

It was always about Nick.

That dream had only solidified what I had secretly known had been going on all along - I was, dare I say, sweet on Nick.

But the more important thing was, maybe that meant that this boy was Fang after all.

END PROLOGUE

**Yes, that entire thing was the prologue to the story. It needs a lot of explanation, I'm afraid since the backstory is a lot to type up. It's much easier to come in in the middle of the story and to catch you up on what had happened earlier.**


	3. Chapter 1

When I got to school, I went to the library to talk with my friends. I always did this. In fact, my days were so painfully routine, it's almost pointless to describe them. First period? Newspaper. Where I was on the most boring team and I had no friends. Highlight of Newspaper? My page editor, Craig, smelled beautiful. Really, he did. To this day, I don't know why. Second period? Choir. I had a ton of friends in choir, but we weren't allowed to talk during class and whenever we did work in groups, they would all pair up and I'd end up being all alone. I took choir as a chance to let out some of my frustration through singing and to fix my hair before going to third period. Third period was gym. I usually waited until gym to do any work with make up. Too much work, too little reward - a phrase that was quickly becoming my motto. Gym, I spent talking about my inner turmoil and other teenage, girly things with Kat. She was a sweetheart. I loved her to bits.

Then came lunch. I ate lunch with Jake, Nick, and Ashley. If nothing else, lunch was interesting, Jake would make sure of that. Even when I was gloomy, someone would notice and bug me about it. Jake and Ashley were great at bugging me about being sad. They wouldn't ask, "What's wrong?" in the demanding, aggravating way that most people do. "Oh? Excuse me? Is my pain bothering you? I'll just go somewhere else to be upset!" No - Jake and Ashley were sympathetic and clearly very worried when I wouldn't speak.

Nick never mentioned anything about it. I liked that, too. He just let me be. He wouldn't mention anything about it. Or, at least, not until after lunch. After lunch, he would walk me half way to class, since our classes were in the same direction, and he'd ask what was wrong. Whenever I denied, he would do the eyebrows. His silent but universal eyebrows. He spoke lengths and lengths with that stare of his. He wouldn't say anything, but he'd keep his face stoic as he raised his eyebrows. It annoyed me how he let them do his talking for him. I had to explain myself to him, but all he had to do was raise his eyebrows, and I'd respond.

Fifth and final period, I went to English. I had no friends in that class, and very rarely did we do any work, so I tended to take that time to write down the happenings of lunch, in case I might want them for future reference.

That day at lunch, I was flushed. Well, at the time, I was usually flushed at lunch. I can't explain it, but every day, from third to fifth period, my face would blush and my cheeks would get so hot, one could fry an egg on them! It was such a strange phenomena! I simply wasn't used to it!

"Jake," I said, "Feel my cheeks. Do they look flushed? They're so warm!"

Hesitantly, Jake leaned toward me, "Yeah, they're pretty red." Then, touching them, pulled back, "Wow, your cheeks are really hot! That's so weird! I'm freezing!" It was true, Jake's hands had been very cold.

"You're cold?" Nick retorted, "I'm colder than you!" I couldn't wrap my mind around why it was so important that one be colder than the other, but Jake readily agreed with Nick, so I didn't question it.

"You're colder than him?" I gasped, stunned. "Jake's frickin' freezing!" Then, Nick extended his hand toward me. For a moment, I just stared, dumbfounded at the hand. Then back at Nick. Then back to the hand.

I took my hand to my chest, shakily. "No, thank you." I refused with an awkward smile.

Nick raised his eyebrows, the way he does. "Take the hand," they said, as he offered it me, again, leaning forward a bit. "Take it, people are staring," the eyebrows said.

Declining once more, I said softly, "No, really. I'm fine!"

"What's wrong with Nick?" Jake questioned.

Flustered, I responded, "Nothing! I just - "

"She's afraid I'll turn her to ice," Nick interrupted, jokingly. Nick was abnormally quiet that lunch. Though he's usually rather quiet, he at least enjoys cracking jokes with Jake, and he likes to tease me. Ashley spent the lunch with her boyfriend, a table away.

Lunch ended and Nick slung his black, corduroy backpack over his shoulder and watched as I took my tray up. Then, he led me down the usual path to the stairs where we would stand out of the way and talk.

"So... are we still on for the twenty-first?" I asked him hesitantly, sure he had forgotten.

He shrugged, "As long as you're still up for it," he said, nonchalantly.

I frowned. It wouldn't kill him to at least pretend to be interested some of the time. I had worked so hard at making sure the day would be perfect. The twenty-first of October, my parents were taking the little ones and leaving Ella and I at home with our grandmother, they would be back in a week. Nick and I were supposed to go up the lake nearest my house and talk. I could not have been more excited. Excited to get out of the house, excited to have some legit alone time with Nick, excited that my parents and annoying little siblings were out of my hair for a week... the list goes on and on. But the twenty-first was only a day away and Nick didn't seem like he was nearly as enthused as I was.

I tried to restrain my pout as I explained to him the importance of contact information. "Well, if we're doing something, I need to know, I can't just leave whenever."

Nick sighed, running a hand through his thick hair, messing up the already unkempt mass of tamed (or abused) curls. "Okay, Wednesday works?"

"Yes." I nodded, looking away from him in order to restrain the "obviously" that struggled in my throat.

"Wednesday it is." He hated making decisions. Which, in retrospect, is good, because he wasn't very good at it. "What's your number?"

I wrote my number on his arm and the bell rang for class. I sighed to myself, this would be my third tardy. I prayed Mrs. Dennis would have mercy on me and hold off on the impending after school detention. Nick saw the life drain from my eyes at the sound of the bell and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'd better get you to class," he said, and began walking off toward my English room.

"But what about you?" I asked.

Nick gave another half hearted shrug, then paused, waiting for me to walk alongside him. "I've got study hall. Mrs. Emmerson doesn't care if I'm late. I doubt she'll notice if I never show up."

"I don't want to go to English..." I mumbled, and felt Nick's gaze bore into me. "I'd love to just stare here under the staircase with you."

"Yeah," He agreed, but we knew, no matter Nick's risky lifestyle, I wasn't one to cut class. No, not back then, not when I was still so innocent. Not when I cared so much about everything that would soon seem so meaningless.

I caught up to him and the two of us walked again, this time in silence. We reached the door and I have him a fleeting hug, blushing when I saw a few members of the class staring out the door at me. Nick waved to me, then walked off down the hallway. Taking a deep breath, I walked into the room.

"Late again, Max..." Mrs. Dennis groaned, not even bothering to look at me.

I set my stuff down at my seat but remained standing, and pulled at my split ends. "Yeah..." How could I deny it? I was. There was no excuse.

"The third tardy means an after school detention," she began, and I knew it was coming. I looked away from her, ashamed of myself, though, secretly knowing the time spent out of class and with Nick was more than worth another hour of school. "However, if you can give me a blue pass, I'll take the extra credit points instead."

I was shocked. "Really?" I gasped.

She turned now, to face me from her desk at the back of the room. It seemed all eyes were on me now. "Yes, do you have a blue pass?" I scrambled to pick up my backpack and frantically sifted through my papers and pencil shavings. Amidst the mess and grime I found what seemed like it used to be blue, somewhat grayish, half sheet of paper.

"This?" I asked, holding it out to her.

She took it, cut a square out, and handed it back. "Yes." She said, smiling slightly. "Please, try to get here on time..."

I nodded, "Yes, Mrs. Dennis, thank you very much!" I loved Mrs. Dennis, sometimes, I wished I could love her class as much as I loved her.

That evening, I could barely sleep. I knew I had a Japanese test the next day that would require a lot of studying. I had Algebra homework to do, I had a chemistry lab... I needed my rest. But I tossed and turned until I couldn't stand it anymore. I laid out my clothes for the next day, then tried once more to snuggle under the sheets.

"Excited?" Fang asked, making me instantly guilty.

"No," I scoffed, "What's there to be excited about?"

Fang stroked my hair. "Nick," He said simply.

I pouted and folded my arms, "Nuh uh."

"It's okay, you know. I don't mind... Nick... could be the one..." Fang's voice trailed off.

I sat up and turned to glare at my would-be husband, "How can you say that? Nick could never be you! He's not as funny! He's not as confident! He's not NEARLY as handso-"

Laughing, Fang pressed me back into the mattress with a firm but gentle hand. "Calm down, Max. It's time to sleep. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

"I'll say," I grumbled, and then, as if Fang had commanded it, peaceful sleep overtook me.


End file.
